Courtly Love
by neveah-rosalyn
Summary: Death Eaters, the Resistance, quidditch, allnight parties, the rich, the poor, forbidden love they can only exist together in one place: Greece. R&R please!
1. Lazy Days

**Disclaimer:** I didn't write Harry Potter or any of the movies I happen to borrow scenes, quotes, and/or ideas from. ENJOY!

**Courtly Love**

In the days of knights and chivalry there existed courtly love. Marriage was not for love or by the choice of the spouses, but for money and by the choice of the spouses' fathers. Love did not exist in the marriage but outside of it by means of courtly love. Tokens could be exchanged, sweet nothings could be whispered, and letters could be sent by the lovers. But if they physically expressed their love, all hell would break loose.

xXxXx

The sun shone down on the pristine Greek seascape. Blue skies, green grasses and trees, white beaches, and a turquoise ocean were all indications of a beautiful, fairytale happy-ending afternoon. Ginny stared out the window at the exquisite day from her home-centered family practice. It was a change from the dreary chaos back in England, but a peaceful change at that. As she called in her last patient for the day, Ginny couldn't help but think, "I don't deserve this."

xXxXx

Blaise Zabini tossed his cloak into the hands of a house elf as he stepped out of the hearth and onto the carpet of his front parlor. He had had a long day and he was most definitely happy to be home, or where he now called home. He and Ginny had moved to Piraievs (a magical town just outside of Athens), Greece. The war was taking its toll on Ginny (or that's at least what he told himself whenever he started to miss rainy London). It wasn't as if he didn't have the money. Blaize provided a beautiful home for himself and Ginny. The rather large town house had more than enough room for two people to live comfortably. It included a spacious office for Ginny to start a family practice and a gorgeous roof-top balcony for the couple to host parties for Blaise's associates and friends. House elves and a personal chef were also provided by the Zabini's at the request of Mrs. Zabini. Just because he loved a Weasley didn't mean that Mrs. Zabini was going to deny her son or teach his beloved about the finer things in life.

Blaise wandered around the first floor until he found Ginny. She was relaxing on a chez lounge on the back porch. The sun reflected some golden highlights in her fiery red hair that she had left pinned back from her day's work. Completely unaware of the fact that she was being watched, Ginny chewed on her bottom lip as she pondered over what she was reading. Blaise chuckled at the sight of his girlfriend, causing her to sharply look up.

"Do you know how adorable you are?" Blaise asked as he joined her on the lounge and kissed her soundly.

"Yes, I do, but only because you remind me – oh – every hour or so," Ginny sweetly answered. "How was your day?"

"Long. How was yours?"

"Boring." Ginny absent-mindedly began tracing patterns up and down Blaise's chest through the fabric of his shirt. He tucked a red curl behind her ear and brought his lips to hers.

"Well we're just two peas in a pod, you and I," Blaise whispered. He trailed kisses along her jaw-line and down the slope of her neck, nipping periodically, coercing a throaty moan from Ginny. Placing her hands on either side of his face, she brought his eyes level to hers. "Do we have to go out tonight?" she pleaded.

Ginny had a love/hate relationship with the ritual. Every other night, or sometimes every night, the 20-something year-old children of the wealthy and powerful met. These dinners were anything but casual. They would dine on extravagant food and top off extremely expensive bottles of champagne. This elite group was more often than not joined by celebrities. Ginny loved the rare occasions when Viktor Krum would attend with Hermione in tow; however, she hated the company of the upper-crust. Her old school mates brought her comfort while most of the attendants gave her awkward glances. Though Blaise's money was an old inheritance, she was still considered nouveau riche.

Ginny pouted ever so slightly and ruthlessly wriggled beneath Blaise. It was her show now. She kissed from his chin back to his ear and grazed the lobe with her teeth. "No dress robes. Just the two of us. We can have dinner in bed," Ginny breathed. "Just think of it." She continued to nip at the sensitive flesh just below her lover's ear while whispering the dirty deeds they could do, accentuating her intentions by rolling her hips. Her hands were about to reach for his belt when Blaise caved. "Alright! But one of us should floo Pansy and tell her we're not coming."

"I'll do it, but Blaise…" she pulled him closer (if at all possible) by his tie, "take me to bed or loose me forever."

xXxXx

In Pansy Parkinson's lounge of her ideal beach villa sat many a man of different nationalities each with a cigar and drink in hand. A particularly quiet blonde observed his surroundings from a wingback in the corner. He had polished off his scotch an hour ago but declined any offers for a refill. He had a busy day at work the following morning, so he claimed. Not to mention he enjoyed watching the group adamantly chat through sober gray eyes. Draco was awaken from his day-dreaming when he felt a strong hand clamp on his shoulder. He stood up to shake Viktor's hand.

"Ready to leave? You can come with Hermione and me if you'd like," he asked with only a hint of an accent.

"Yes, thank you," Draco handed his drink to the balding man servant who had been waiting on them all night. These stuffy, sophisticated affairs always drained him, and he was ready for a good night's sleep.

The two men met Hermione in the foyer, collected their cloaks, and together they bid good night to Pansy. While the day had been pleasant, a cold wind whipped in off the sea from the west. It was getting unseasonably cold for early fall in Greece. Draco crossed his arms against his chest to gain warmth.

"I really thought they'd be here," Hermione apologized to Draco placing a gentle hand on his arm. "She normally jumps at the chance to go to these things, if there's a slight rumor that Viktor and I will be there. Well, we had better be going." Draco nodded and smiled slightly as Hermione kissed his cheek. He offered his hand to Viktor.

"She'll be at the next one for certain," Viktor added in a low whisper. "Hermione's going to take her out to lunch tomorrow. It'll all work out. G'night."

The couple disapperated with a barely audible pop and sympathy in their eyes. Draco hated sympathy, but he was appreciating his alone time on the beach. No, he hadn't seen Ginny tonight; however, it could have been worse. Someone could've told them he was here. Blaise certainly would have found him by now if he knew. For Merlin's sake he'd been living in Greece for a month now! An entire month and he had yet to see Ginny. Draco decided it was high time to get home. Ginny could wait.

**Author's Note: **Sorry about the spelling error on Blaise Zabini. I was misinformed. Obviously "Take me to bed…" is from _Top Gun_. Chapters 2 & 3 should be coming within the next couple days. Chapter 2 is already written (hand written, which Helen, Savannah, and Katie find annoying to read ha-ha), and Chapter 3 is in my head. Ok, go review!


	2. Blast from the Past

**Disclaimer: **I didn't write Harry Potter… blah, blah, blah… or any of the movies… blah, blah, blah… Ok time to read.

**Chapter 2: Blast from the Past**

"Miss Wheez –"

"I'm coming, Cossi!" Ginny was beyond the point of frustration. Ear infections were running rabid among the toddlers of wizarding Greece; Ginny calculated that she had seen a third of the temper-tantrum throwing two-year-olds. It didn't help that half the house elf staff had appeared off and on during the day. Though the gala she and Blaise were hosting was well over a month away, the elves had dozens of dizzying questions: which caterer to call, what flowers should be ordered, who should be invited, when the invitations should be sent, etc. Mrs. Zabini had already heard a rumor of the event and kept floo calling every couple of hours to "ensure" the party wasn't really celebrating an engagement. Ginny was beginning to think that jumping off of the roof wasn't too drastic.

"Miss Wheez-i-lee!" Cossi called again entering the office wearing her normal uniform of a pink and yellow pillow case.

"Cossi, leave me alone!" Ginny let her head fall on her desk. She was truly starting to believe Mrs. Zabini's psychotic house elves weren't all that necessary, and last night's hooky didn't offer any help to regain her vitality nor her sanity.

"But there is someone here to see Miss Wheez-i-lee!"

"Who?" The guest then walked in the door. Ginny looked as if she had just eaten one of her twin brothers' Canary Creams by mistake. There she stood in the door of Ginny's office. Her curls had relaxed a bit and were trimmed in a cute short style that framed her face. She had grown into her small bone structure. Though she might have gained a little bit of weight, it gave her a slightly athletic look – like a tennis player. Her skin was tan (like everyone else's in Piraievs) and freckles dusted the bridge of her nose. Hermione Granger-Krum looked quite happy.

Ginny squealed like a little piglet as she jumped from her desk and hugged her best friend. It was Hogwarts and Healer Training all over again – their childhood revisited. Their worse fears still were failing Snape's final, receiving a first kiss, and growing up. The world was still wonderful, and neither one of them could ever imagine leaving Britain.

"How are you?" Ginny asked holding her friend at an arm's length. "You look fabulous."

"So do you! I'm doing alright," Hermione replied. "How long has it been?"

"At least five months."

"Five months? It can't be!"

"It has, it has. How long are you in town? We should find some time to catch up." Ginny's head was spinning.

"I was on my way to lunch. Care to join me?" Ginny glanced down at a schedule that was too full for a lunch date. Two routine check-ups, a last minute addition, and a first time patient all were coming this afternoon. But it was a rare occasion when Hermione was in town. Normally she would have written to let Ginny know she was in Piraievs. Something was different, yet she couldn't put a finger on it.

"Cossi, call my patients and tell them their appointments have been pushed back about an hour and a half. If they want to reschedule, have them call me tomorrow. If Blaise is looking for me, tell him I'm with Hermione and I'll be back for dinner." And with that Ginny and Hermione stepped into the hearth.

xXxXx

It was another gorgeous day – the kind every little girl wants for her wedding. The sun shone down in such a gentle fashion and a cool breeze filtered in to offer relief from the sun's heat. Wispy clouds hung in the air with a care-free attitude about them. The sea had a gentle roll to it that day; it showed no evidence of the roughness it had displayed the night before. Two young women used the perfect day to bask in the sunlight outside their favorite café. Maybe it was the way the clear sky reflected in their eyes or maybe it was the adamant way they talked with every single employee, but whatever it was, the average passerby thought the women practically lived just to dine there.

"So I don't see a ring on your left hand, Miss Weasley," Hermione smiled over her glass of white wine.

"Oh don't even go there. Blaise doesn't. Every time we have dinner with his parents his mother asks if I've met his grandmother yet," Ginny explained.

"But –"

"Not that one. We're talking Nonna Zabini, the great matriarch of the Zabinis. Blaise wears only Italian dress robes – tie and all – when he goes to see her. But enough about my boring life, what brings you to Piraievs?"

"I live here."

Ginny just about choked on an olive and her eyes grew to the size of a Hungarian Horntail's eggs. Was she finally not alone? They say misery loves company. _"I live here." _The words rang in her ears. Certainly Viktor had come too; Hermione wouldn't leave him. But why Greece? Ginny thought Viktor would finish out his Quidditch years flying for Bulgaria, and he was not the kind to retire early with a good five or six years left to play. She had previously believed that if the couple were to move anywhere it would be England or somewhere in the UK, but never Greece. It was so random, and Ginny couldn't hide her bewildered looks.

"Remember when Viktor and I were in town last March?" Ginny nodded. How could she forget? Bulgaria was playing Greece, and they had been invited to one of Cho Chang's notorious dinner parties. Hermione had spent the night silently hiding in the corner because every time she opened her mouth Cho would dismiss her thoughts for "idle mudblood fodder." Ginny also picked out a few insults in Chinese the hostess said aside to her ladies in waiting, whom Ginny and Hermione had decidedly called "whores in training." Hermione continued, "He was working out contracts with the team in Athens whenever the players weren't on the field. Since he picked the country, I demanded that we lived near you or he'd be moving out here all alone." The ladies chuckled at the idea of Viktor living without Hermione. Ginny pictured a disastrously messy apartment and a very sex-deprived Viktor. Ginny was also pleased to see her friend laughing and being so nonchalant for a change.

"So how long is this contract for?" she asked allowing her chin to rest on her palm.

"Seven years." Seven years! Ginny suddenly perked up. "Then the team might let him coach, but that's only if they like the athletic trainer he brought along."

"Really, who is it?" the red head was desperately trying to conceal her excitement.

"Oh no one special," Hermione responded and then coolly polished off her wine. "But I really must get back to the library." Ginny laughed; some things never do change. "Please tell me you'll be at Cho's tomorrow?"

Ginny agreed. She would never leave Hermione alone with that Chinese Fireball ever again. They rose from the table and enjoyed a friendly embrace. With the meal paid for, the girls left the café tummies full and cheeks hurting from smiling so much.

xXxXx

Viktor Krum winced as he placed a bag of ice right below his ribs, while another sat under his right knee. He felt like a useless sack of potatoes – a beaten and very tired useless sack of potatoes. Practice had been a little tougher than what he had expected. Greece didn't only gain the best seeker of the century, but the team had managed to get their hands on two of the best beaters in Europe. Viktor could handle several blows to the stomach and ribs he had taken from bludgers, but towards the end of practice one bludger went straight for the knee he had dislocated two years prior. Though Draco had cleared him and swore his knee was fine, the haggard flier didn't feel so hot.

"I'm home!" Hermione called. His wife's voice was music to his ears. He also loved to listen to her bustle about their apartment in search for him. Sometimes Viktor would even hide in the bathroom and wait for her to enter the bedroom before grabbing her from behind and scaring the living daylights out of her.

"In the bedroom!" Viktor replied. Hermione entered the room a few moments later without the thousands of books her husband knew were most likely sitting on the kitchen counter.

"How does take-out sound – Sweet Merlin! Viktor Nikolai Krum! What the hell happened?" Mrs. Viktor Nikolai Krum stood in the door frame with her hands on her hips. She shot her husband a look that would have made Voldemort cry for his mommy and his blanket.

"Europe's two best beaters, dearest," he offered a hint of a smile in his pain. "Doesn't it help to know that during a game I have two people covering my arse who could knock a man who stayed in a game with a dislocated knee off his broom?" Hermione's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. She didn't like remembering that game.

"What did Draco say?" she sighed.

"I'm fine!" Viktor put his hands up and turned his body from left to right.

"And your knee?" she cocked an eyebrow. He never could figure out how she did that while keeping a straight face.

"Didn't budge an inch. The ligaments and tendons are all intact, no displaced cartilage either. Other than a bruise and my ACL hurting like a bitch, I'm fine," Viktor patted the empty space next to him. "Come see for yourself."

Hermione skipped over and hopped onto the over-sized bed that took up a fair portion of the room. She snuggled under her husband's arm, careful not to accidentally bump his knee; she never got over how perfectly their bodies fit together. "How was lunch?" Viktor asked planting a kiss on her head.

"Good. I've never seen that girl get so excited over Quidditch contracts," Hermione giggled and nestled in closer. That smell – she absolutely adored his smell. It was leather and fresh air with a hint of cinnamon all molded into a perfect, unique scent that only belonged to Viktor Krum.

"She must be lonely… did you tell her about Draco?"

"No, but I wanted to. She and Blaise are nowhere near an engagement. The thought of it just terrifies her. There's no love there – an intense like most definitely, but not love. She misses England, she misses her family, and she misses Draco, even if she's too stubborn to admit it. She feels useless; she's not meant to be a trophy wife. It's all in her eyes."

"I'm guessing she doesn't know the real reason why you're here then?" Viktor began kissing Hermione's neck.

"Not yet. We'll explain everything at Cho's when she sees Draco." Hermione wriggled free of his grasp and straddled his hips facing him. "But for now, let's forget dinner."

**Author's Note:** So that's Chapter 2. Nothing special, but I did borrow Viktor Nikolai Krum from Miss Yettigoosecreature's fics (they're all wonderful by the way; read them!). Chapter 3 is in the works. Here's a hint at what's coming for all of those people who like Kill Bill: think about O-ren. Ok, review please. I really like criticisms.


	3. Diamond Dogs and Lost Loves

**Disclaimer: **I didn't write Harry Potter blah, blah, blah. Ok just read.

**Diamond Dogs and Lost Loves**

_Crawling down the alley on your hands and your knees,_

_I'm not sure you're protected for it's plain to see,_

_The diamond dogs are poachers and they hide behind trees,_

_Hunt you to the ground they will,_

_Mannequins with kill appeal._

xXxXx

Though many people would probably doubt what I am about to tell you, Ginny and Cho actually had something in common: they both loved flowers. Plumerias, Madagascar periwinkles, roses, lilies, magnolias, and of course orchids – just name one and both girls were sure to love it. Cho's love for flowers certainly showed in her ethereal garden. Guests entered the garden and were welcomed by the aroma of many exotic flowers that blended into one intoxicating scent (and all blended into one similar shade of lavender as well). Even the occasional passerby walked a tad bit closer to the house to catch a sniff of the enchanting smell. Delicate, deep green ivy wound itself onto trellises which were positioned in front of the garden walls in order to hide the walls stark whiteness. Small fairy lights, tucked into the ivy and tree branches, and traditional Chinese lanterns cast a soft, exquisite glow throughout the courtyard. Amidst all the beauty sat a large gazebo – the hub of the garden. Here the guests dined and enjoyed the splendor that surrounded them. Cho's personal string quartet provided some gentle music and the gurgle of the two fountains in the back of the garden accompanied them.

Several round tables were placed in the gazebo, and perched at the head of the most prestigious table was the queen of all this elegance, dressed to the nines in a white, floor-length gown that showed off two of her best assets. Cho expected nothing less than the best, and what else was to be expected of the ruler of the Chinese underworld? Those who had grown up with her would never have thought that the timid ex-crush of Harry Potter would someday become queen of one of the most powerful mafias in the Eastern Hemisphere. In reality most people part of the organization couldn't fathom how Cho came to rule. She came from a well-bred aristocratic family; there was nothing to connect her parents to anything suspicious. Once in power Cho mysteriously moved the mafia headquarters to Piraievs. The resulting anger was almost the equivalent to that of the turmoil that would occur if it had been relocated to Japan. The aggression didn't rattle Cho in the slightest. She was a brutal ruler (for a girl, but if anyone ever said that, then he or she would be found swimming with the fishes in one of Cho's ponds). In China she and her minions – the Doom and Gloom Brigade – were more feared than Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Yet none of Cho's friends attending the dinner party were scared for most were ignorant to their companion's true identity. As it was her first garden outing, the very few women in attendance were in innocent awe of the beauty surrounding them. There was something about this Eden that offered a soothing, peaceful calm. The women never felt more secure; however, the men had never been more aroused just from looking. Cho's infamous ladies in waiting were proving their claim to fame once again. All fifteen women were scantily clad in shimmering "dresses," which appeared to be made out of leaves or flower petals that twinkled in the soft lighting. Two of them specifically modeled garments made of what appeared to be glowing cherry blossom petals – Cho's personal assistants. The remaining thirteen flittered around their assigned guests, guiding them to their seats and bringing them whatever they desired.

Ginny was quite surprised when Cho's servant guided her to a seat right next to Cho. Frankly the read head was shaking in her four-inch heels and silently wished for Hermione to be near by instead of at another table. She couldn't help to notice Cho's cleavage was not being shy tonight (and how is one supposed to cover up in such a revealing dress?). Ginny did her best to conceal her discomfort and to carry on a normal conversation with the hostess. In the middle of a sentence Cho would gently touch the other girl's forearm or she would lightly caress Ginny's hair and merit her for its softness. Ginny looked to Blaise in complete, wide-eyed desperation. Pansy Parkinson was smirking clear across the table, and the other guests seated there turned their attention to Ginny. She was frantic. The read head slyly reached her left hand underneath the table and placed it on Blaise's knee – their code for "Help!" Blaise took her hand between his two – their code for "Wait a couple minutes." And just as Blaise predicted, Cho finally directed her affections to her "personal assistants" in order to ask them to bring the string quartet into the gazebo. Ginny relaxed but was quickly startled again when she heard her best friend's voice followed by an all too familiar laugh. _"It couldn't be,"_ she thought as she shook her head and stood to follow Blaise to the dance floor.

xXxXx

Draco had always hated groupies. There wasn't any challenge. They would fawn all over him because of his chiseled good looks and his family name and fortune. The airheads were way too obvious for their own good. They would try to get him drunk while pretending to be drunk themselves just so they could get him in bed. To them shagging Draco Malfoy was the Holy Grail of all sexual conquests. He knew Cho only had this hoard of girls for two reasons: the first being her won personal pleasure and the second being that she didn't like to see men at her parties sitting alone (women were never invited unless Cho was positive they were to be accompanied by a male date). And for these two reasons only, Draco put up with the girl who was assigned to him for the evening.

Well maybe there was a third reason for putting up with this torture. Draco had hoped to be seated at the same table as she had been. He and Cho were old friends, but once word was out that he had been seen with Viktor, he was placed with Viktor and Hermione at a far off table. Though he was distant, Malfoy kept creating perfectly good reasons to turn around or to leave the table. He had dropped his napkin twice, had gone to "get some air" at least once, and had retreated to the rest room three times all by the time dinner was over. His efforts weren't without reward. He had caught several glimpses of the back of Ginny's head, and thankfully the woman seated with him (he believed her name was Nadia) was too aloof or too drunk to notice.

The tables were soon magically pushed aside as Cho's private string quartet joined the rest of the party in the gazebo. Some couples took the opportunity to stroll and to explore about the garden, while others twirled gracefully around the dance floor. Cho was perched in her favorite chair, which was brought out for the purpose of her observing everything surrounding her. No one was to be seated at this point in time; everyone was to be occupied with some sort of activity. Cho despised wallflowers. So much so that when she saw Draco and Nadia still seated (and neither was making a drunken fool of themselves), she glowered in their general direction until Draco took the hint.

He sighed. Certainly dancing with this girl couldn't be too unbearable. He was a strong partner, which was one benefit of being raised in a rich family, and she was Cho's girls after all. They whirled about the floor in such a fashion that they were certain to attract some attention, and that was exactly Draco's intention. For soon enough he found his eyes locked with a pair of most beautiful brown ones.

xXxXx

Ginny always loved dancing with Blaise. There was something about the way they moved together that made Ginny feel like the most elegant lady in the entire world. The couple would glide not different to the way swans just barely skim the surface of lake waters as they float along. Though Ginny felt exulted above every woman ever born, she was still well aware of her surroundings. She occasionally saw Hermione and Viktor across the room and would offer a smile or a small nod. Ginny also caught a glimpse of Cho who would wink and smile like the Cheshire cat in Ginny's direction. In reaction to these gestures Ginny would instantly stiffen, and Blaise would whisper words of comfort. But nothing could calm her nerves when she found herself staring into the eyes of Draco Malfoy.

xXxXx

_Inside the old wardrobe of Draco Malfoy's childhood bedroom was darker than a cloudy night in the Forbidden Forrest. If it were not for the fact that they were practically sharing boots, Ginny would not have known Draco was in there with her because she couldn't even see the nose on her face. In the dark their remaining senses were heightened, especially since they could not talk out of fear that Lucius Malfoy – whom they had been spying on – would hear them and their cover would be completely blown (as private Healers in training for the Order, Ginny and Draco were qualified in the art of espionage)._ "Just breathe," _Ginny mentally reminded herself. The wardrobe was small; it was a small miracle that they both fit in there. Ginny was a little bit claustrophobic, and being in close proximity to Draco was not helping her to breathe any easier. They were both worn out from running through the mansion. Every so often their heaving chests would brush and Ginny would feel the most delightful electricity. She couldn't hear him talk, but she could hear him breath and feel his muscles flex and relax against her body. She couldn't see him either, but she knew the look he was giving her – the _"Stop breathing so damn hard or neither one of us will breathe ever again!"_ Hoping she had the same effect on him, Ginny gave a look to the darkness in his general direction saying – _"Well how is one supposed to shut up when they're claustrophobic and stuck in a closet?" _ Ginny heard Draco's head lightly hit the wardrobe wall. She could tell that he had looked up at the ceiling, was shaking his head, and was trying with all his might to conceal a laugh. Within the blink of an eye Draco straightened up and brought his hand to Ginny's cheek. _

_If the heat radiating from kisses were powerful enough to start fires, then Draco and Ginny's hiding place would have been a dead give away. Tongues danced as Draco wound his hands through the fiery curls as Ginny placed her hands on his neck urging him closer. His free hand snaked lower to her waist, and she shivered when his finger tips brushed a piece of bare skin that had been revealed when her black t-shirt had ridden up from running so fast. Ginny completely melted into him_. "But here?" _she thought. It wasn't the time or the place. So Ginny reluctantly put her hands on his chest to gently push him away. From then on, nothing would be the same._

xXxXx

Blaise escorted Ginny outside of the gazebo. He could not figure out what was wrong. One minute she was perfectly fine, and the next she was as pale as a sheet and was on the verge of passing out. Ginny claimed that she was alright, a tad bit woozy, but still okay. She had Blaise at her beckon call; however, she only wanted him to sit with her in the garden, nothing outrageous. Ginny was positive that once her heart rate had returned to normal and she had some fresh air in her lungs, she would be fine. She had had quite a scare. Who expects to see their ex at a party when he's supposed to be in a completely different country?

The couple had been away from the party for only a few minutes when Cho appeared from around the corner with a small entourage, including Marcus Flint and Pansy, and Cho's two best girls in tow. "Zabini," the hostess said with a sophisticated air, "we were going to discuss that _new project_ in the smoking room, if you'd like to join us."

Ginny knew that tone. What Cho had really meant was, "Get your ass inside if you know what's good for you."

"I'm sorry, Cho, but I don't want to leave Ginny by herself at the moment," Blaise admitted. "She's still a bit lightheaded." She loved it when he used his business voice, but not when it cause Cho to look like she had been smacked across the face.

"Well, I could leave either Li Mei or Madlaina with her," Cho offered sweetly. "Or she could lay down in one of my guest rooms." She was trying everything to get her way. Ginny's eyes widened. She wasn't all there at the moment, but she knew there was no way in hell that she was going to be left alone with Li Mei or Madlaina. She silently pleaded with Blaise not to go.

"I'm sorry, Cho, I–"

"Yes you can, Zabini. Go ahead," called a voice from the back of the small crowd. Suddenly a body appeared to match the voice, which belonged to none other than Draco. "Go on, mate; I'll stay with her. I already know about the new project. We'll catch up later, but for now go talk to Chang."

Blaise looked completely gob smacked. His best childhood friend whom he hadn't seen nor heard from in ages was suddenly in front of him, offering to watch over his girlfriend for him. What was there to do? "You're sure?" Draco nodded and shook his friend's hand. This time Blaise ignored Ginny's pleading looks. He kissed her forehead. "I won't be long," he murmured while she sat on the bench pouting.

Cho left with her elite clique and Draco joined Ginny on the bench. Once the rest of the group was out of sight, she turned her back to him. She couldn't bear to look at him; just by sitting there he was making her nervous. At least she wasn't the only one. Even with her back to him Ginny still had her ability to feel how tensely Draco was sitting. She could picture him without even turning her head the slightest degree. His back would be completely straight partially from nerves but partially from growing up in the upper crust. A Malfoy man never slouches. Draco normally left his hands on his knees; however, considering the circumstances he would most likely be twiddling his thumbs. He wouldn't look at Ginny, not yet anyway. He'd be staring straight ahead until he would work up enough confidence to glance at her out of the corner of his eye. If he gained enough courage, then Draco would say something, usually something sarcastic or biting.

"So what's in been, Weasley? Two years?"

"Four," Ginny snapped back. She had him all mapped out, and she wasn't playing by his rules tonight.

"Four years and not one letter? Tisk, tisk. That wasn't very courteous of you," Draco drawled. He crossed his arms against his chest and rested his left foot on his right knee. Ginny saw all of this with her back still turned.

"You didn't write either."

"And how would that look? Writing to my ex who happens to be playing house with my best mate from school," he sighed. "It's just not done, Weasley, writing to a happily engaged ex or shacking up with an ex's friend."

That wasn't like him; he wouldn't go there, not with her. He had been that harsh with Pansy in the past, but never with her. Ginny was seeing red. She whipped around and jabbed a finger into his chest.

"Listen, Malfoy, we might've had something once, but not anymore, especially with the way you're acting tonight. You could too have written and still been proper. Blaise doesn't read my mail; I'm a big girl you know," Ginny raged. Her entire body was shaking in anger. "I had no choice in the matter. My family needs the money and the Order needed me to do this. And for the billionth time, _Blaise and I aren't engaged!_"

Draco looked as if a blast-ended skrewt had blown up in his face. He had forgotten what it was like to have a woman put him in his place and how much he liked it when this particular woman did it. Once the shock wore off he began to speak: "I know what he had is over, but don't you ever miss it? Don't you ever think about what could have been? You had a choice, even if you don't want to admit it because you know what we had was different than what you hear about everyday couples. But my question is, what does the Order have to do with you and Blaise?"

Ginny's face softened and the rest of her body relaxed. This was the Draco Malfoy she knew and loved. This was the guy who not only would bring you lunch but for your best friend who was having a rough time. He was also the guy who would stand behind you in the elevator in St. Mungo's and would beg you to spend fifteen minutes in the elevator so he could have his wicked way with you. You could smell like blood, vomit, or fesses and he still wouldn't care. Ginny was about to open her mouth when Blaise returned.

xXxXx

"Did you have a good time tonight?" Blaise asked later that night when he and Ginny were in bed.

"I had fun dancing with you," Ginny rolled over to face her boyfriend. "Cho was creeping me out though." Blaise stifled a laugh. "What? What's so funny?" She smacked his arm playfully.

"Don't you know?" Ginny shook her head in response. This time Blaise laughed out loud. "Cho's bisexual."

Ginny buried her head in Blaise's chest and laughed along with her boyfriend.

xXxXx

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I know this chapter took awhile, but I wanted it to be perfect (Alyssa starts cheering because I finally finished this chapter). My question is did anyone catch the Kill Bill in there? If you did make the connection, I'm very proud and you deserve a cookie. If you have trouble picturing the garden, think about A Midsummer's Night Dream, which completely inspired how I wanted the atmosphere in the scene to be.

As for Cho – I know I probably didn't stay true to the character, like everyone wanted, but I do things for reasons. She needed to be a foil to Ginny; therefore, I had to make her the badass chick that could conquer the world if she wanted – hence the "I'm a slut and proud" and take no prisoners attitudes.

It might be awhile before the next chapter gets up. Christmas time is busy because of Nutcracker, but maybe I'll get some downtime at rehearsals to work on it more. Ok, review. Suggestions are always welcome too!


	4. Secrets, Secrets

**Disclaimer**: I'm not J.K. Rowling… darn! Ha ha, ok read!

**Chapter 4: Secrets, Secrets**

Silencing charms were miraculous. Ginny was a very proud person, and with a simple, though strong, silencing charm cast over her office, she would not have to worry about the neighbors hearing the piercing expletives flying freely from her mouth. She also enjoyed the tinkling crash of china against any hard surface (she had always loathed the ridiculous pattern Mrs. Zabini chose for the house and now she had an excuse to ruin it). Ginny did not want to see anyone, not even her patients. How hard was that to comprehend? No visitors – it was short and sweet. Knowing her luck, Voldemort would most likely show up at her doorstep asking to borrow a cup of sugar because he was making chocolate chip cookies as a peace offering for Harry Potter. That was that. Ginny Weasley would have no visitors today, and she reminded Cossi just so in a rather menacing tone.

"Cossi is sorry, Mrs. Krum, but Miss Wheez-i-lee isn't seeing anyone today," the house elf whispered after cowering out of the office. "Cossi thinks whoever upset Miss Wheez-i-lee doesn't know about Miss Wheez-i-lee's temper."

Hermione laughed. "Believe me, Cossi, they know. Now why don't you get some tea ready in the china Ginny likes?" Just as she was about to enter the room, she felt a tug on her pant leg.

"Mrs. Krum is sure she wants to go in there?" Cossi looked up at her with saucer-like eyes, and Hermione's heart melted. Her heart had to be quite large to fit her loves of knowledge, books, Viktor, and house elves.

"Yes, I'm sure," Hermione said softly and gently touched Cossi's head. She turned on her heel and entered the room.

Ginny's office looked much different than the last time Hermione had been there. A faint light leaked through the drawn curtains that weren't thick enough to block out the strong Grecian sun. The ice blue walls took on a grayish hue that made Hermione feel like she were surrounded by storm clouds, which warned her of the danger the walls held. In the middle of this man-made gloomy day sat Ginny at her chocolate brown desk. Her forehead rested on her desk and her tangled locks completely covered her face. As Hermione light smoothly shut the door, Ginny's head popped up and her curls flew back as if they had a mind of their own. "Go the fuck away, Cossi!" she shouted with slurred speech and half-closed eyes.

"Sorry, but no," The brunette retorted. Then came the Weasley death stare – the same one Ron had given Draco after he had called Hermione a mudblood. This time the look was almost too depressing to be intimidating. There was no true way to tell if Ginny had slept or not. She had circles under her eyes mainly from her smeared make-up she had worn the night before, but Hermione swore she saw hints of a bluish-purple beneath the black. Black water-colored rivers smudged Ginny's cheeks, and she wore a tattered terry robe that had been peach at one time but was now a faded pinky-gray. She obviously had made no effort to take down her hair last night. A rat's nest had formed at the top of her head and was tilting to the right, not quite covering the top of her ear. Some pieces were no longer curled, water-logged with tears, and clung to her face; towards the back a few ringlets coiled against the nape of her neck. Ginny had a clear, empty glass clutched in her hand. Hermione had seen her like this only once before, but with the look Ginny was giving her, fixing Ginny's problem was not her top priority.

"Get out, Granger," the red-head snarled and slurred. Hermione stood still only allowing her chin to tilt up slightly in defiance, as she were saying, "I triple-dog-dare you." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Didn't that cock-sucker warn you?"

It was a shame that when Hermione was mad steam didn't come from her ears; the inside gloomy day in the office could have used some fog. Instead her hands went straight to her hips as she raked out Ginny.

"First off, I refuse to leave because I'm worried about you, especially now that I've seen your present state. Number two: you know how I feel about house elves." Ginny took this time to admire the ceiling and roll her eyes once more. "Don't ever let me catch you abusing Cossi again. And thirdly, what's with the last names? We've been friends for 15 years!"

"Would you rather I call you mudblood?" Ginny smirked. That was it; the gloves were coming off. Smack! Hermione's palm connected with Ginny's cheek and the sound resonated of the walls.

"Don't say you didn't deserve that," Hermione growled. There was an awkward silence for a moment that lasted an age. What is a woman supposed to do after she has smacked her best friend across the face? That is what Hermione wanted to know, and secretly she thanked Merlin for the uneasy quietness. It was always better when no one said a single word. Ginny sat in a bewildered drunken stupor. Hermione preferred her friend drunk and silent than even speaking up herself.

"Are we friends?" Ginny asked, shaking Hermione out of her daze.

"Yes."

"Best friends?"

"What the hell are you playing at?" Hermione argued and lifted an eyebrow.

"Answer the question: are we or are we not best friends?" Ginny prodded.

"We are." The chin was lifted and her hands were on her hips- Hermione's defensive stature that was a complete replica of how her mother would stand.

"So as your best friend I deserved to be lied to and to be slapped?" the youngest Weasley sat up a little straighter in her chair, and once again Hermione was taken aback.

"I was trying to protect –"

"Stop right there, Hermione. I am 25 years old; I am not a little girl," Ginny stood and loomed dangerously over her desk. "I really don't know where you all get off being so over protective. First it was Harry and Ron saying that it was too dangerous for me to look for Horcuxes. Then when I finally started missions, Draco refused to let me go unless I had a more-experienced, male partner, but if he was with me, it was completely alright. I could never handle even a sleeping Death Eater.

"After Bellatrix and Narcissa attacked me, my parents went to the Order to have my assignment changed to spying on Blaise. Then Charlie died, and Blaise insisted that I get away from the chaos. Now you and Viktor are suddenly back in my life, but you can't help to lie to me for my own God damn protection! Don't you people understand that I live with an upper-ranked Death Eater?"

Ginny's breathing was ragged and her eyes were brimming with tears. Her pain that currently filled the room held the strength to break the windows. Her arms shook from holding her body upright. Ginny took her eyes away from Hermione for a brief second. No one ever saw her cry, not even Ron. With a small sniffle and a quick wipe of the eyes, everything was right again – for the time being.

"Look, we should –"

"Get out," Ginny grumbled.

"But we need –"

"No!" she bellowed. "What _you_ need to do is get the fuck out!"

Hermione wanted to stand her ground. Her heart was completely all for staying in that office and making some kind of progress. But her mind told her to leave, so Hermione's legs carried her out of the room. The moment Hermione was gone Ginny slumped into her chair and buried her head in her hands. Then she reached for her glass.

"Cossi!" she shouted. Then she moaned in despair. "Why is the rum gone?"

**A/N**: Happy Holidays everyone! I'm sorry this chapter didn't get up quite as quickly as I wanted, nor is it as long as I had wanted it to be. I guess I can't complain if it's effective. If you're lucky, I might get chapter 5 up before my break is over. I do have homework to do, but with my boyfriend in Louisiana it gives me something to do while I wait for my 11 (or since he's a time zone behind, 10) o'clock phone call. I wish everyone a Happy New Year!


	5. McWorld

**Disclaimer: **Didn't think of Harry Potter… wow that's a depressing thought. Ok Read!

**Chapter 5: McWorld**

His name was George, and he was very old, so he slept a majority of the time. He was practically on life support in his last stages of Alzheimer's and in the middle stages of congestive heart failure. Since it was an extremely rare occasion that he was awake, George was quite popular – rather George's room was quite popular. Other than the gentle bleeps and hisses of the machines the room was blissfully quiet compared to the rest of Saint Hali's. It was the perfect sanctuary for any healer, nurse, surgeon, or trainee with its city skyline view (what else was to be expected of George who was sitting on a gold mine? The staff used to joke that one of them was going to find one of George's offspring and get married so they could share in the inheritance). At night the buildings blended into the deeps indigo sky, making the lights in their windows look like stars. It was one of Ginny's favorite things to look at – a real life painting. You would think that her favorite scene would brighten her spirits, but it just made her wish for the starry nights she had spent at the Burrow as she reflected on her not so wonderful day.

xXxXx

It all began early that morning when Ginny was floo-called by Kolina, a co-worker at Saint Hali's, where Ginny worked twice a month so she could have a healthy dose of chaos amidst her daily monotony. Kolina had come down with a nasty bout of the flue and wanted Ginny to cover her shift. The sick healer promised to cover any shift that the healthier one chose, even a dreaded night shift. Since the hospital wasn't really that hectic in the fall during the day, Ginny took the shift. She thought she might even get the chance to catch a quick nap in George's room (she wasn't sleeping very well still a week after seeing Draco). Ginny quickly dressed and threw her scrubs into her bag. She kissed a sleeping Blaise's forehead before heading to the hearth; it was only seven in the morning.

Before Ginny could change and clock in, the waiting room was packed. It turned out that various strands of Kolina's flu was attacking adult wizarding Piraievs. Grown-ups always made the worst patients, and the red head once again cursed herself for not picking pediatrics as her specialty. Half of the patients complained that their illness was worse than anyone else's and demanded to be treated immediately. The other half had been brought in by a friend or relative because they were too stubborn to admit how sick they truly were. These patients, or the portion of them whose stomachs were affected by the virus, were the ones who vomited in the waiting room. One of these had told Ginny that he was too busy convincing himself not to throw-up to get to a bathroom. Then there were the patients who just wanted to get better, so they were quiet; they waited their turn and asked for assistance if and when they needed it. Ginny loved those patients; however, there were only three of them and Ginny had only seen one of the three.

Around one thirty Tony, the desk clerk, alerted Ginny of a very special trauma case that was coming – a Quidditch accident.

"Did they say what happened?" Ginny asked.

"Something about swallowing a snitch."

"Page surgery!" were the last words out of the healer's mouth as she sprinted to the apparition bay. A million thoughts flooded her mind: _What if it's Viktor? I can't work on my best friend's husband! What if it's Draco? The pompous prat will try to tell me what I'm doing wrong! Like he's done a surgery since training_. Ginny's what ifs were cut off as she grabbed two nurses and a trainee, and the three joined her in the jog. When they arrived at the apparition bay, it was awfully quiet – the calm before the storm. There was soon a loud pop as three people had apparated as one: Viktor and Draco flanked a very pale Andreas Calix (star chaser for Athens), who was then quickly put on a gurney and wheeled to Trauma Room 2.

The next twenty minutes were a blur. Viktor explained what happened to Ginny, the nurses, and the trainee and translated for Calix. Calix, who wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings, had turned his head at the last second after catching the Quaffle. His mouth was wide open, causing the snitch to enter his mouth and to be swallowed. Calix started clutching his stomach and muttering in Greek to Viktor.

"I'm going to floo his wife," Viktor said to Ginny in English. "Good luck," he added as he placed an encouraging hand on her shoulder and left the room.

"Tell him I'm going to do an ultrasound spell to see where the snitch is and to see if there's any internal bleeding," she said to one of the nurses. "Pay attention!" she snapped at the trainee as she lifted up Calix's shirt to reveal a circular bruise on his abdomen, quite close to his ribcage. At that moment, Draco, who had disappeared after bringing his friend to the ER, sauntered through the double doors of Trauma 2 now dressed in scrubs. "What'd I miss?" he asked casually.

"Tell me this is an old bruise," Ginny growled.

"No, didn't Viktor tell you?" Draco inserted another question. The red head shook her head. "We were testing our sub-beaters, and Calix took a stray bludger to the stomach just after he swallowed the snitch." Calix then turned his head to the side and coughed up some blood.

"Shit!" Ginny screeched. "Malfoy, have the nurses clean him up and show that incompetent trainee how to do an ultrasound spell." She scurried to the intercom and punched in the numbers for the blood bank. "Can I please get some O-neg in Trauma 2? Thank you!" She was not risking her patient into bleeding out, and lucky for her, the units of blood arrived down the shoot rather quickly. Her job was done; she just needed a consult and she desperately wanted to scrub-in on the surgery.

"Where in bloody hell is the surgeon?"

Dubeinko and DiIanni arrived right on cue with looks of horror on their faces. They had obviously seen the tray in which Calix had coughed up blood. It didn't matter that the patient. Blood had been expelled via the mouth, and Dubeinko had not been informed prior to leaving his kingdom of the operating room floor. While DiIanni was more mild-tempered, if Dubeinko was pissed, then so was DiIanni.

"Who wants to explain?" Dubeinko asked rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was dangling the bait: if you gave a good history, you got to scrub-in.

"Mr. Calix has swallowed a snitch and was hit by a bludger, sir," Ginny jumped for the bait. "Malfoy did an ultrasound and-"

"If Malfoy did the ultrasound, then shouldn't he present his findings?" Dubeinko asked coolly. "Please, tell me if I'm wrong."

Ginny's cheeks flushed red as her temper rose. _What's with the games?_ She thought. _Do they want him to bleed out?_

Malfoy picked up where Ginny left off. "I found that Calix fractured some ribs, and the snitch lost a wing, which punctured his spleen, after he was hit."

Dubeinko stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Do you have rights here, Malfoy?" Draco nodded. "Good. Both of you will scrub-in." Ginny glared at the blonde. Sure, she grew up in a large family, but she was the only girl, so there wasn't much to share.

Once in the elevator Malfoy leaned over to her and whispered, "Hey, Weasley, don't let the big boys boss you around in trauma and don't say 'please' and 'thank you' to the blood bank."

The comment hit a nerve, and she felt like punching him, but she wasn't loosing this surgery over him. Ginny had had a rough day. Hopefully cutting someone open, saving a life, would make it better. She was gowned and her hands thoroughly washed when Viktor popped his head into the washroom.

"Hey, Gin, when was the last time you delivered a baby?" he asked.

"Two months ago, why?" That was one nightmare Ginny did not want to remember. The woman hadn't realized she was in labor until her contractions were three minutes apart. She was forced to deliver the baby in the waiting room with many people watching.

"It's Calix's wife. You're the only person she trusts in this hospital because you're Hermione's friend," Viktor pleaded. She was not loosing this surgery because of a pregnant woman.

"Can't I do both? The surgery won't take long," Ginny asked the two elder surgeons.

"The nurse said she was progressing quickly…" Oh shut up Viktor!

"Go, Weasley, we've got plenty of hands," said Dubeinko. She stood there in defiance. _Why couldn't Draco do it? He's a qualified healer_, she thought.

"I know what you're thinking," DiIanni added. "Would you rather have a man who works with your husband or a woman who's a friend of a friend?"

Ginny hated when he pulled compassion on her. She always felt horrible for how she acted before. If DiIanni wasn't that way, who would keep them in check with kindness? Ginny reluctantly removed her gown and mask and went with Viktor.

xXxXx

Viktor had been right. Fiona (Andreas' thankfully Irish wife) progressed and delivered very quickly. Ginny had only one problem: Fiona refused any kind of pain dampening spell. By the time Ginny had convinced her, it was too late: the baby was crowning.

Now up until this point Viktor had been adamant about staying in the delivery room with Fiona. He and Calix had gone to school together and they were still very close. He was going to be godfather to this child, and as he said it, he "would be a pretty shitty godfather" if he wasn't present for the birth. Ginny had warned him childbirth was messy. Ginny had told him not to look over the sheet. Where was Viktor during the last stages of the birth? The iron-willed Bulgarian was on the other side of the curtain used to divide the room, lying down with a cool cloth pressed to the back of his neck. He had fainted. When Viktor awoke, he chose a quite encouraging phrase, "My head is throbbing!" For his choice of words and his weak stomach, he earned a one-way ticket to be placed on the other side of the curtain while Fiona struggled for strength to push once more.

"Just one more!" Ginny encouraged.

"I can't!" Fiona whined after a weak attempt.

"Come on, Fiona!" She pushed, but the baby didn't budged. Fiona tried again, only causing herself to cry out in agony.

"Don't push. Relax," Ginny said calmly. _Don't panic_, she reminded herself as she felt around for something to be caught: an elbow, a foot, anything. Thankfully it was easy to spot; the shoulder blade was caught. "Got it! Shoulder blade's caught on the pubic bone." Fiona moaned as Ginny freed the blade.

"Alright, you can push now."

"I can't, I'm too tired!"

"Yes you can!"

"But I can't! I'm just a woman!"

"You think a man could do this?" Ginny fumed. "You think a man could pass a watermelon through a straw? You should've seen that one after he dislocated his knee." She gestured towards the curtain. "You can do this. One more push."

"Arghh!" Fiona cried as a new baby boy was brought into the world. Pink, wrinkled, and perfect with ten fingers and ten toes. He howled to beat the band, even as his mother coddled and cooed to him.

"What's the verdict?" Viktor asked through the curtain.

"It's a boy!" Ginny replied.

"Sounds like the start of a Calix dynasty!" Viktor exclaimed. Ginny seethed with anger. _What did he mean by that? Would there not be a dynasty if the baby had been a girl? _With all of the chauvinistic men she had dealt with that day, she regretted her aid in delivering the next generation of males to the species. Ginny continued about her work as if nothing were wrong. New mothers were jittery, and she was not about to upset her patient over something that had nothing to do with the patient. The healer was helping Fiona pick out a good name when a middle-aged man entered the room.

"Excuse me, what are you doing with my patient?" he said in a nasally voice.

Ginny rose from the bed and stood very close to the male healer in an intimidating fashion. "Sorry, didn't see your name on her," she said coolly. The red head strutted out of the room giving the healer and Viktor icy looks and making sure to slam the door on her way out. Unfortunately she ran straight into three more men: DiIanni, Dubeinko, and Malfoy.

"Hey, Gin, how's the baby?" DiIanni asked.

"It's a boy," she said.

"That's wonderful! We were just going to check on them for Calix," Dubeinko replied. "Surgery went very well and he's in recovery."

"Yea, Weasley, you missed out on an excellent surgery," Malfoy gloated.

xXxXx

And that is how Ginny found herself with George, wondering why men couldn't be more like him. _You could just wake them up for sex, and you'd never have to acknowledge them otherwise._ The red head grinned at her nefarious thoughts. The idea of only having Blaise for sexual purposes sounded absolutely divine. At the moment, men were her least favorite people on earth. Most of the patients she had seen today were men. A woman chaser would not have swallowed a snitch because she would have been paying attention to where she was flying. A female healer would have been more understanding and would have let Ginny take the surgery. If Viktor was a woman, he would have been equally ecstatic had the baby been a girl. Wasn't the war cause by a very evil man? Ginny would have been fine if she never saw another male ever again, but of course, Viktor popped his head into George's room.

xXxXx

**Author's note:** I hope every one enjoyed their holidays, and I'm sorry I couldn't get this chapter up sooner. I've been so busy lately with work, school, dance, and my boyfriend coming home from Louisiana that sitting down to write was at the bottom of my list. I wanted this chapter to be perfect (Alyssa does happy dance because it's finally up.)

From the last chapter I forgot to note some quotes: "I triple dog…" is from A Christmas Story. "Why is the rum gone?" is from Pirates (the first one).

This chapter: As anyone can see, it's my Grey's Anatomy chapter, since I'm a faithful fan hehe.

"Hey, Weasley, don't let the big boys boss you around in trauma and don't say 'please' and 'thank you' to the blood bank." That's a variation of a quote from ER, another show of which I am a faithful fan.

This was almost a memorial chapter for me. The one healer – DiIanni – is named after a friend of mine: Austin James DiIanni. He died October 11, 2006 in a car accident. He always wanted to be a doctor, so I thought I'd make him eternal in a role he was so fit to play. You're always in my heart buddy.

The next chapter is already under way, but it's a very pivotal chapter, so don't kill me if it takes awhile.


End file.
